


Giseishi

by deepestbluest



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Implied/Referenced Canonical Child Abuse, M/M, Siblings, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestbluest/pseuds/deepestbluest
Summary: Of the two of them, Hashirama is more important. Tobirama has known this for so long he can't remember learning it. Maybe he didn't have to; maybe he was born knowing it.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 12
Kudos: 149





	Giseishi

**Author's Note:**

> Giseishi (n): in bonsai, a sacrificial branch that will become useless in the future in terms of the shape of the tree but is deliberately left to grow and leave conspicuous traces after it's severed. ([x](https://bonsai.shikoku-np.co.jp/en/word/2009/05/giseishi.html))
> 
> HUGE thanks to jessicamiriamdrew who took several for the team (read: me) and held my emotionally clammy hand and read through the first draft

After Madara’s death, Hashirama’s gambling habit quickly progresses from fun to dangerous.

His chakra reserves are nearly always low, but he continues to push himself, wagering his life on his indestructibility. He smiles at their villagers, but all this surviving is wearing on him.

Guilt isn't something Tobirama had thought he could feel anymore. Their father had been clear; Hashirama’s heart is too soft to do the types of necessary things that can't be acknowledged. If their clan was going to survive, Tobirama would have to make decisions Hashirama couldn't and do things that would hurt Hashirama. He would have to be Hashirama’s shadow, precise and cold so Hashirama could make his offers of friendship.

To protect his brother and to be the good son Butsuma would heed, Tobirama did as he was taught.

He did so well, Hashirama avoids him.

Madara was unstable. He would have killed Hashirama if he could have; Hashirama had to kill him. To protect Konoha, Hashirama had to kill Madara.

Tobirama was supposed to keep Hashirama’s hands clean.

“I failed,” he admits.

Hashirama looks up from the bottle of sake he set between them earlier, expression pinched the way it gets when he's been drinking and isn't following the conversation. “Failed what? We've only just begun to rebuild, Tobirama. There's nothing for you to have failed.”

He’s drunk nearly the whole bottle on his own.

The misery he's been burying is clawing its way out, but Hashirama won't acknowledge it.

Of the two of them, Hashirama is more important. Tobirama has known this for so long he can't remember learning it. Maybe he didn't have to; maybe he was born knowing it.

Butsuma reminded him anyway, and Tobirama’s will is stronger for it.

“I was distracted,” Tobirama tells him, waving a hand to dispel Hashirama’s confusion. “It's nothing.”

Hashirama looks skeptical, so Tobirama pours him another round.

As he always does these days, Hashirama takes it readily and drinks too fast to taste anything.

His hands are dirty from the long day of rebuilding Konoha’s skeleton and testing newer, better defenses, and the lines on his face are deep. Even Hashirama’s chakra isn't infinite; he tires like any other man.

He's been tired since Tobirama and Tōka dragged him back to Konoha.

The cup clinks as Hashirama sets it on the engawa.

“Tobirama.”

“Yes, brother?”

“Why won't you look at me?”

Tobirama’s heart jumps. He hadn't thought Hashirama would notice. “It's nothing.”

“Why are you lying?” Hashirama leans forward clumsily. “What have I done now, Tobirama? Tell me and I’ll fix it. Okay? I'll fix it.”

He reaches for Tobirama’s arm, fumbling until Tobirama catches his hand.

“Don't worry,” Tobirama tells him. He's never been good at smiling. He can't make his face match how he feels; even his brother struggles to tell which smiles are real and which are forced. That works to Tobirama's advantage now. “There's nothing you need to fix. I'm upset at myself, not you.”

“But you're working so hard,” Hashirama protests. “Why are you unhappy? I can see you thinking.”

Tobirama pats Hashirama’s hand with his free one.

“My latest test failed.” It's an easy lie. Hashirama won't want the details, and the reminder that Tobirama isn't the innocent child Hashirama tries to see him as will push Hashirama away.

It takes a moment, but as Tobirama predicted, Hashirama does retreat.

He looks down at his lap, heartbroken.

Again and again, Hashirama's heart gets broken, and even the mokuton can't heal it.

“Don't worry,” Tobirama says a second time, forcing another smile. “I know where I went wrong, so I don't have to experiment anymore.”

“Really?” Hashirama asks, straightening up in excitement. He blinks quickly, trying to put the world back to rights after his overenthusiastic movement.

Tobirama nods. “I know it upsets you, and I’ve learned enough.”

Hashirama smiles at him softly, and if Tobirama couldn't smell the thick scent of sake on his breath, Hashirama would look like he had when both Uchihas lived.

More than anything their father taught him, Hashirama's happiness solidifies Tobirama’s resolve. There's a way to correct the world, and Tobirama is going to do it.

⁂

“Ow! What are you doing?”

Rubbing the side of his head with one hand, Hashirama kicks weakly at Tobirama.

“Don't you remember?” Tobirama asks, sitting back. “Our uncle who looked like me went bald before Father did. I can't take that chance with you.”

“You-!” Eyes lighting up, Hashirama laughs. It's loud and long, and the force of it nearly knocks Hashirama over.

It almost sounds natural.

Tucking the stolen hair into his pocket, Tobirama returns his attention to his cackling brother.

The joke wasn't funny enough to warrant this kind of laughter, but if this is the way Hashirama can still laugh, then Tobirama won't shush him.

Soon, Hashirama can laugh and mean it.

⁂

“Tobirama,” Hashirama singsongs as Tobirama tucks him in. “Tobirama.”

“So you’ve said,” Tobirama tells him, pulling the duvet up to Hashirama’s chest. “At least four times too many.”

Hashirama closes his eyes as he nods. “Okay.”

He's going to feel like death tomorrow when the hangover his mokuton can't fix hits and Tobirama isn't around to make the tonic for him, but he’ll have something else to make him feel better.

“I left a scroll with Uchiha Hikaku.” Tobirama reaches into the bowl of water beside him and lifts up the cloth he set in it. “You won't remember me telling you any of this, but you'd be angrier if I didn't say anything.”

Hashirama grumbles at him, and Tobirama remembers the first time Hashirama drank himself to sleep.

Tobirama had tucked him in that time, too.

“I gave the scroll to him because I thought you'd like it if I showed a little faith in that family.” Hashirama does look for hope in all places; that part of him hasn't disappeared entirely. “Hikaku thinks it's just a gesture and isn't wrong. You like gestures, though, brother.”

“Gestures?” Hashirama mumbles. He doesn't open his eyes.

Taking Hashirama’s right hand, Tobirama wipes the cloth over Hashirama’s palm. He slipped earlier, scraping his hands on the edge of the table, and his wounds are slow to heal now.

“I’m not sorry for doing what I thought was best,” Tobirama continues as he washes Hashirama's hand, ignoring the question. “But I wish I'd done better. This was messy. Father would be disappointed in me.”

Hashirama slurs something unhappy.

It sounds like “father” but might not be, so Tobirama pretends he didn't hear anything.

“But Father is dead, as are Itama and Kawarama. Izuna and Madara as well. I know it will distress you, but I’m going to join our brothers before you do.”

Finished with Hashirama’s right hand, Tobirama sets it down and begins on the left.

“You won't be alone. You’ll be happier this time.” Swallowing, Tobirama tries not to think about the blood he's washing away. “You can be angry with me, but whatever you may think, I’ve always loved you.

“Try to find something worthy in me. That's my final request. Try to find a reason you would have mourned my death if Izuna had been victorious.”

Hashirama’s left hand is clean, so Tobirama sets it back down.

“The scroll Hikaku has will give you the details of what I intend to do in case something goes wrong. It will also tell you much of what I just said.”

Getting to his feet stiffly, Tobirama looks down at his brother.

“If I’m as intelligent as Father said, tomorrow will feel like one of your impossible dreams.”

Leaving like this, without any kind of embrace, feels wrong, but they aren't close. It's been years since Hashirama did more than lay a companionable hand on Tobirama’s shoulder. Tobirama hasn't reached for Hashirama except to bring him somewhere with hiraishin.

An old hope Tobirama has been ignoring dies.

They'll never make up. Tobirama will never earn another of Hashirama’s carefree, one-armed hugs. He’ll never feel the strange joy of being harassed by affection.

Tobirama will be a good brother, and that's enough.

⁂

One of Tobirama's students decided not to obey Tobirama’s orders.

“I explicitly told you to keep this area clear so I could work. Did you forget how to listen?”

Saru coughs. “Sorry, Tobirama-sama.”

“I made sure no one followed him,” Danzō says before Tobirama can begin with him.

“No one except you, of course.” Crossing his arms, Tobirama glances between the men he trained. Danzō became his responsibility by virtue of him always chasing Saru and Saru annoying him in return until Tobirama had to intervene. “To make it up to me, Saru, go check on the hokage. Make sure he's still asleep and be careful not to wake him up.”

Saru wisely doesn't argue.

Danzō looks over at Tobirama with an expression Tobirama is certain he's felt on his own face too many times to count.

“Stop thinking of yourself as his opposite,” he advises, laying a hand on Danzō’s shoulder. “You'll only drive yourself further from him. Meet in the middle; there are things you can do in the light and things he has to learn to do in the dark.”

Danzō looks away, but Tobirama can see his jaw flexing.

Squeezing Danzō’s shoulder, Tobirama gives him a firm shake. “If you can't find a way to work with Saru, then you’ll be a liability. I expect better.”

He doesn't let go until Danzō nods.

“Good. Now go keep an eye out for Saru. He's probably making a mess trying to impress Biwako, and Hashirama needs to rest.”

Tobirama fishes the hair out of his pocket and concentrates on the place it fits against his.

A third chakra signature interferes. “Now, Danzō.”

“Are you grafting chakra?” Danzō asks, ignoring the order. “You can do that?”

Tobirama grits his teeth. _“I_ can, yes. _You_ would do well to forget you saw anything.”

Suitably chastised, Danzō moves away, and Tobirama refocuses. He doesn't need to make any seals for this part; he's merely splitting the chakra from some cells and, as Danzō guessed, doing a small graft.

He isn't worried about this or the next part failing. They're both sound and have been tested thoroughly.

There's a burst of discomfort as his chakra and Hashirama’s collide, but as it had in the past, it settles into an uncomfortable but tolerable numbness.

He drops the hair and lifts his hands to form the first seal.

At the edge of his awareness, he feels someone familiar running toward him. A second, equally familiar chakra signature is close on his heels.

Saru has lived up to his namesake. Just like a monkey, he's made a mess of things.

“You should either run away or help Saru,” Tobirama tells Danzō. “Hashirama is going to be upset.”

Danzō frowns. “This isn't just an experiment, is it? It's got something to do with the work you've been keeping secret.”

Patience wearing thin and the only person who can stop him rapidly approaching, Tobirama snaps, “Go help your friend.”

Too close for comfort, a voice shouts, “Tobirama!”

It's been a long time since Hashirama said Tobirama’s name and sounded afraid.

Tobirama forms the second seal.

_“Tobirama!”_

When Tobirama makes the third and final seal, the night becomes total darkness.

“Don't!” Hashirama shouts. Tobirama’s sense of his chakra puts him dangerously close. “Don't, Tobirama! _Otou-”_

Tobirama almost laughs. Hashirama must be truly frightened if he's calling for their father to intervene.

He doesn't need to be afraid. This is how things get fixed.

⁂

Tobirama lands on the battlefield.

He throws up immediately, every inch of his body twitching and his gut wrenching, but Hashirama's stolen chakra is already repairing the damage.

A corpse can't convey how a journey feels, only the physical signs of it, and despite his cells regenerating, Tobirama stumbles on half-withered legs, eyes watering.

The pain, like the damage, recedes.

Not far away, he can feel the force of his brother's chakra; it's a heavy but excited weight, bright next to the unhappy whirl nearby.

Hashirama and Madara must be fighting.

Tobirama lets himself feel it for a moment. It's his last day; he can't be selfish, but he can reaffirm why he's here. Hashirama isn't happy, but he still thinks he could be. He hasn't killed Madara. He doesn't resent Tobirama.

For the first and last time, Hashirama needs him.

Moment over, Tobirama takes a deep breath. Hashirama's cells have healed enough of what the journey destroyed that he’ll be able to do what he came here to do.

He reaches into his kunai pouch as Izuna sends Tobirama's younger self flying.

The first time Tobirama used hiraishin on the battlefield was against Izuna. It had still been new; he'd been lucky he hadn't simply moved a few steps forward and been brought to his knees.

He needs no luck now.

Izuna blows a fireball, and younger Tobirama summons a wall of water.

Chance found, Tobirama reaches for the twin of his chakra and pulls himself toward it.

He lands between Izuna and himself. Stopping Izuna is easy; Tobirama only has to drive a fist into his gut and send him sprawling backwards.

Hs own voice says, “You-”

Tobirama grabs his younger self by the sleeve.

“You won't understand this,” he says, “but the Uchihas must live.”

He sees his doubt reflected in his own face and understands it.

“You can't be serious.”

“If they don't, you’ll break Hashirama’s heart. I promise you, being responsible for him taking the course he goes down in the future hurts more than you can imagine.” He pulls a kunai from the bag at his hip. “He needs Madara at his side. For that, Izuna must live.”

“And we won't let that happen,” his younger self finishes, nodding his understanding. “The unnecessary variable is us.”

“Regrettably, it is.”

“Tobirama?” Hashirama calls. He's been approaching steadily. “Why are there two of you?”

“Don't worry about it,” both Tobiramas answer.

“Go back to Madara, brother,” Tobirama orders.

Hashirama doesn't go anywhere.

“Not until you explain.”

Neither Tobirama has enough chakra to teleport away, much less use hiraishin.

“If you value your clan, Madara, you'll hold my brother back,” the younger Tobirama says.

If he has any kindness he’ll turn Hashirama's head away.

“What are you- Madara! Let go!”

“You’ll only have one opportunity before brother breaks free and heals me,” his younger self continues. “Be sure to do this quickly.”

“Tobirama!” Hashirama yells. “Whatever you're thinking, don't!”

He sounds like his heart is breaking.

It’s already been broken. He has a good future this time; Madara won't rebel if Izuna survives, and Hashirama will recover.

“Madara names it Konoha,” he says. “He loves it, as do I.”

Nodding, his younger self closes his eyes. “Remember not to hesitate.”

“I will.”

Tobirama adjusts his grip on the kunai.

“Don't,” Hashirama pleads; the sounds of him struggling against Madara carry. “Tobirama, you don't need to do this.”

Turning toward him, Tobirama smiles. “I do.”

His brother howls as Tobirama drives the blade up and forward, calling on their father yet again.

Madara of all people calls his name as well, and as the kunai hits skin, the rush of battle brings Madara’s voice dangerously close to his ear, then darkness swallows him once more.

⁂

Tobirama opens his eyes.

Above him is his bedroom ceiling. He recognizes it by the splash of ink from one of Hashirama’s bouts of excitement over Konoha’s growth.

But that happened in the world where Madara left.

“What is this?” he asks, fear rushing through him.

“Look at that, Hashirama,” a voice drawls, drawing Tobirama’s attention to the shōji. “Your brother is awake.”

There, in the doorway to Tobirama's bedroom, is Uchiha Madara. Squinting at Tobirama over his brother’s shoulder, Izuna gives him a dubious look.

Both seem healthy.

Tobirama has barely noticed them when the third man in the group shuts the shōji sharply, leaving them on the opposite side, and marches over, expression tight.

Tobirama winces. He knows that look. “Brother-”

Hashirama glares at Tobirama as he kneels beside him. “You and I are going to talk. First question- when did you get stupid?”

 _“I'm_ stupid?”

“Is there a better word for traveling back in time to kill yourself?”

“Effective,” Tobirama says flatly.

Hashirama shakes his head. “Effective at being stupid, then.”

“At least it made sense.”

“Compared to what? Killing yourself outright? That's a low standard.”

Tobirama glares up at him. “Compared to calling on our father to help.”

“What?”

“Otousan.” A headache is building, and Tobirama rubs his eyes. “You kept calling for him.”

“Otousan,” Hashirama repeats, forehead wrinkling. “You thought I would call on our father to intervene.”

Tobirama winces. In Hashirama's voice, it sounds unconvincing. “Brother-”

Hashirama nods. “That's right. You always call me anija. If you know we’re brothers, tell me something, Tobirama. What might I, an older brother, call you, a younger one?”

Tobirama winces again as pieces he hadn't thought of come together. “Otouto.”

“As I said- stupid.” Hashirama's expression falls. “Do you really think I don't care?”

“You haven't called me your brother since you met Madara. Why would I think you'd resumed now?”

Tobirama's voice is sharper than he intends it to be, but Hashirama is always upending things. Tobirama had a plan, and it was going to work. Yet here he is.

“I'd found a way to make you happy and protect the village,” Tobirama tells him. “You blamed me for what Madara became. We both knew it. Don't look so disturbed that I took the chance to fix it.”

The sound of Hashirama’s fist colliding with Tobirama’s leg is loud even with the duvet muffling it.

“Ow!” Tobirama rubs the sting out of his leg. “What was that for?”

“For choosing not to think,” Hashirama snaps. “You took it upon yourself to die. You assumed I would call on our father before I called you my brother and that you mean so little that I would just get over your death. You decided, all on your own, that I would rather lose you than Madara.

“You crossed a line, and now I have as well.”

He curls his hands into fists.

Sometimes, Tobirama thinks tiredly, Hashirama resembles their father. He's stubborn and doesn't listen to others. He sees the world he wants to see, not the one that exists, and is too stubborn to listen to anyone who disagrees.

In other ways, in far more ways, Hashirama is nothing like Butsuma.

“You're still too soft-hearted if you think a punch like that would actually hurt,” Tobirama huffs. “Stop looking at your hand like you did something unforgivable.”

“Didn't I?” Hashirama asks, not meeting Tobirama’s eyes. He reaches over but doesn't touch as he wastes chakra healing an ache from a hit that wouldn't even leave a bruise. “I didn't mean to do that. We said no more hitting each other after he died.”

“You’re being ridiculous."

Hashirama still doesn't look at him. “That's easy to say.”

Fighting a sigh, Tobirama closes his fist and hits Hashirama in the knee.

“Ow! Tobirama! _”_

“Now we both broke our promise.” Reclaiming his hand, Tobirama relaxes into the futon. “Stop sulking. It's unbecoming of the hokage.” He considers that assumption. “Unless you aren't anymore?”

Hashirama isn’t wearing the hokage's robes.

Hashirama shakes his head. “I've never been hokage.”

“Madara, then.”

“He's a good hokage. Not the best leader, probably, but he does love the village. He's even stopped scowling all the time.”

Tobirama raises his eyebrows. A vast improvement over the man Tobirama watched awkwardly attempt to court Hashirama. “And the two of you?”

“What about us?”

“Don't play dumb. Are you together yet or not?”

Hashirama’s cheeks redden as he shifts. “Madara and I… We’re friends.”

He continues lying to himself out loud, and Tobirama scowls.

“When did you become a coward?” he asks over Hashirama’s whining. “He's in love with you.”

“In the original world-”

“In every world,” Tobirama corrects flatly.

There should be a world where that isn't true, but it can only be a world where the two of them never meet.

It's annoying.

“That's impossible,” Hashirama insists.

“Is it?”

Hashirama opens his mouth only to shut it a moment later. He touches Tobirama’s shoulder, dark eyes soft, and Tobirama knows without being told that Hashirama can see that this isn't an argument either of them is up to having.

“You're getting worked up.” Hashirama pats Tobirama’s shoulder. “I'll let you rest. We'll talk later."

“Be happy, brother,” Tobirama says. “That's all I wanted.”

“I already am.”

“Then be happier. I wasn't going to die just so Madara and Izuna could live. I was doing it for you.”

Hashirama doesn't answer, merely pats Tobirama’s shoulder before he gets up. “I'll see you later, after you finish sleeping off what you did to yourself.”

Tobirama sighs, as much argument as he can be bothered to make

He closes his eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Hashirama’s delicate exit.

The rumble of the shōji as Hashirama slides it open.

The sound of his brother saying Madara’s name in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” Hashirama asks, voice low. “Were you lying about not being injured? Show me and I'll-”

There's a surprised sound, followed by a low one.

“Get out of my house,” Tobirama calls. “I can't sleep if I can hear you kissing.”

“Sorry, little brother,” Hashirama calls a moment later.

“Why are you apologizing when this is what he told you to do?” Madara asks, tone sour.

The two of them fall into an argument, Madara scolding and Hashirama sulking, but they leave without further intervention. Tobirama relaxes as he hears two sets of footsteps leave together.

Izuna is already gone.

He must know what happened and why, and there's going to be a reckoning for it.

So long as Hashirama is happy, Tobirama can bear the rest.

⁂

Hashirama is drunk. He reeks of sake, and though a year has passed, the smell still turns Tobirama’s stomach.

“Hey, Tobi-chan,” Hashirama says in Tobirama’s ear, tipsy and chatty because he's having a good time. Despite being adults, Tobirama is carrying him piggyback, and Hashirama knows Tobirama wouldn't drop him. “I’m married.”

“You are,” Tobirama agrees, knowing Hashirama will only get more clingy if Tobirama lets him find out how annoying this is. He's informed Tobirama of his marriage at least six times. “I'm not sure why I’m the one who had to come get you when your husband is closer.”

“I told them to get you.”

Of course he did. Being happy makes Hashirama pushy, and being the hokage’s husband gives him even more to push with.

“Why? I was working on something important.”

“Can't it be a present for your brother’s birthday?”

Tobirama’s suggestion of where Hashirama can go looking for his belated present disappears as Hashirama lays his head on Tobirama’s.

“Well, you already got me the best one.”

“If you say your marriage, I’ll yell at you tomorrow morning. The mokuton still doesn't fix hangovers.”

“…The best _two_ gifts.”

Tobirama snorts. “Go on. Come up with another.”

“You.” Hashirama pets Tobirama's shoulder. “We never used to spend time together, and then you were dead, but you're here again.”

“I died?” Tobirama asks. Hashirama pointedly doesn't talk about the time Tobirama didn't exist in this world, and Tobirama hasn't found a reason to push him.

Hashirama hums. “It took us a while to figure out what you’d done and how, but Izuna found your notes. That's why Madara is the one who grabbed you. Izuna went to him instead of me.”

Tobirama takes that in. “I see.”

“No, you don't.”

“I don't?”

“How could you? You were dead.” Hashirama rubs his head on Tobirama's. He's clumsy, which makes it more like a headbutt, but the intention is clear. “Don't do that again, Tobirama. You disappeared, and I felt like I was two people with two sets of memories. I was sad in both. Nothing made sense. You weren't here to help me. Don't leave me again."

He's getting agitated, and Tobirama squeezes his legs in warning.

“You’re a ninja, brother. You know I can't promise that won't happen.”

“Please?”

Hashirama doesn't ask. He orders. He wheedles. He pushes. He begs.

He never asks.

“I don't make promises I can't keep,” Tobirama tells him. “You'll only be hurt more if I die first after promising not to.”

He expects resistance, but Hashirama merely bumps their heads together again and announces that he wants to see his husband.

“Tobi-chan,” he whines when Tobirama refuses to use hiraishin to bring him home faster.

“You'll throw up and I’m not in the mood to clean.”

“That only happened once.”

“Lying won't change my mind.”

Hashirama sulks, then pouts, and when neither works, he sighs. “You're always the same, aren't you?”

“In what way?”

“You're a good little brother.” Hashirama curls himself closer. “But, Tobi-chan, I’m going to throw up anyway.”

“Don't put your face closer to mine!” Tobirama yelps.

Hashirama laughs, and Tobirama briefly reconsiders his stance on not dropping his brother.

“You're always an idiot, aren't you?”

“Don't underestimate how well I hold my liquor.”

Tobirama sighs but doesn't argue. They’ll be back soon, and Tobirama can foist his brother onto Madara.

Hashirama is quiet the entire way, lulled to sleep by the alcohol he's immune to, and Tobirama’s chest grows tight.

He's lived longer than he'd ever assumed. They've built a village where children learn together instead of die on their own in battle. Hashirama married Madara, and Izuna, who turned out to be acceptable company once they learned how to tolerate each other, is helping Tobirama develop the Academy’s curriculum.

Peace occasionally makes Tobirama itch, but Hashirama is happy, Konoha is growing strong, and Tobirama is testing a new way of using exploding tags.

Hashirama sighs and snuggles closer.

Carrying him is difficult when he's dead weight like this; he's always been taller and heavier than Tobirama, and the gap has only widened as they've gotten older.

Tobirama doesn't drop him.

Hashirama is still dozing when they reach his home. Madara comes out to meet them, and Izuna wanders out after him.

Hashirama wakes up enough to start wiggling as Tobirama hands him over.

“Stop making this harder or I’ll drop you on purpose,” Madara grumbles, hitching Hashirama onto his shoulder.

“Madara,” Hashirama whines.

Tobirama and Madara exchange looks. They aren't friends, but dealing with Hashirama alone is nearly impossible. If they push back together, along with Izuna, they have a better chance of not getting completely overwhelmed.

“Bedtime,” Madara tells him. “Before you break a shōji again.”

“I only broke it a little.”

“And that was too much. Say goodnight to our brothers.”

He's already walking away, but Hashirama cheerfully bids them goodnight.

Izuna comes over and stands next to Tobirama. “I understand you better now that I've gotten to know him.”

Tobirama shakes his head. “You and Madara remain a mystery.”

“If that's true, you're as dumb as your brother.” Izuna gives him a knowing look. “You were working on something, right?”

Tobirama nods.

“If it's allotting the Academy’s portion of the budget, I have an idea.”

“Show me,” Tobirama says quickly.

Izuna snorts, but he lays his hand on Tobirama’s shoulder so Tobirama can use hiraishin and bring them to his home and the table with his attempts at solving the problem.

The sooner they sort out the budget, the sooner he can sleep. It's been two full days of trying to reallocate and justify funds so members of the council won't argue among themselves for hours. Even if Izuna is lying about having a solution, he used to help manage the Uchihas’ money. He may come up with an answer by accident.

At the very least, he understands the burden of being the younger brother. From the resigned sound he makes when he sees the state of Tobirama’s work area, it's a burden he’s reconciled himself to bearing.

“I don’t have enough dead relatives to protect me from this,” Izuna says, already sounding tired as he slips his sandals off and carries them to the genkan.

“Knowledge is the path to enlightenment,” Tobirama offers.

“If that were true, I don’t think you’d be the way you are.”

Tobirama only shrugs and steps out of his own sandals. Hashirama is the Buddhist; the enlightenment Tobirama seeks isn’t so noble.

Izuna shakes his head as they pass each other. “I hope you got better sake than the options in our brothers house. I’m going to need it.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Tobirama doesn’t have any sake- Madara drank most of it last time he was here, and Hashirama won the rest in a rigged bet- but if he keeps that to himself, Izuna will work harder and Tobirama might finally get some sleep. 

He’s used to tuning out Uchiha indignation. He might even sleep better if Izuna is yelling at him about the sake.

**Author's Note:**

> Otouto is the Japanese word for little brother, but, unlike words for older brother like anija, it's only used when talking about a younger brother, not to him. Hopefully that's a forgivable misapplication 😅
> 
> Thanks for reading! Come say hi on [tumblr](asotin.tumblr.com/) if you want to ^^


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